


The Bitter Guest and the Joyful Wedding

by TsyberRhaegal



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Homophobia, Multi, One-Sided Relationship, Threesome - F/F/F, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-02-10 13:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18661120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsyberRhaegal/pseuds/TsyberRhaegal
Summary: Lexa attends a wedding in Polis.  But it is not her own.  Clarke femslash with two women, but neither of these women are Lexa.  One-sided Clexa and one-sided Anarke.





	The Bitter Guest and the Joyful Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a crack threesome. (I love these three together)

The news had reached the Commander only after the rest of the Trikru had bowed to Klark, displaying their respect to Wanheda for destroying the mountain. Klark had gone missing for two whole years. She and many other Sky children who had chosen to follow her. The adults like Belomi, Abi, Kane and the others remained at their camp. For two years, the missing Skaikru had not been seen. And Leksa had heard no report of them and worse, she had heard no report of Klark. The Skaikru had hid themselves well.

After the missing Skaikru had come to Polis to demand that Leksa make the Skaikru part of the Coalition, the many Trikru realizing who Klark was and bowing to her, Leksa still had not realized.

The youths accompanying Klark were many. They numbered from Reivon, Wels, Monti, Jaspa, Sterlying, Hapah, Del, Deek, Tim, Kathy, and many others, along with allies from other tribes like Niylah and some other people from the tribes who had taken the Skaikru’s side out of disgust for their “traitorous Commander.” And then there was the two of them. 

Leksa had a hard time even thinking those two women’s names without feeling her flesh become so hot it was like she was set on fire.

And they made it apparent that they would be heard. The whole group had been armed. Knives, swords, guns, rifles, cannons, grenades. If they were to be killed, they sent a very obvious message. That they would paint Polis scarlet with the Trikru’s blood if they died. And their message was heard loudly. And so the agreement was made. The Skaikru was to join the Coalition, and there would never be another threat to Klark’s people from the tribes ever again. But Klark said that she needed reassurance. In order to make sure that Leksa did not go back on the agreement, as Klark believed she would, like Leksa had betrayed them at the mountain, Klark had her people take all the missiles from the mountain and had them planted all over the land. If even one person from one tribe moved closer to their territory than they should, the missile would be unleashed on the person’s village.

But all could relax, as long as Leksa held to the agreement. That was how Klark had said it and she had said it with no small amount of hateful amusement, staring at the Commander with the obvious message in her hard eyes. You disgust me.

Klark made her repulsion for Leksa and her decision at the mountain all too obvious. And Leksa almost couldn’t stand it. Even after two years, her heart had still ached for the blonde. She had sent out scouts to search all over the villages across the different tribal lands and no one had found Klark and her people. The only people that Leksa and her people knew the location of were the Skaikru that had remained at Camp Jaha, now called Arkadia.

The “missing thirty-four” who had disappeared after the mountain with Klark had been unheard of. Which sounded impossible. How did you lose thirty-five people? But Leksa personally knew that if one or many tried hard enough, with enough training then, they could hide anywhere. Linkin had probably taught the Skaikru how to hide. Leksa supposed that perhaps Klark’s new lover had too, seeing as the lover was a Trikru.

And now? Four months after the Skaikru had entered the Coalition, there was a marriage ceremony here in Polis. Between three women.

Marriage between three or more was not illegal and not rare. The more people in the relationship, the rarer the weddings were. The most Leksa had seen in a wedding ceremony between more than two people had been a marriage between three women and two men. And that had been a unique situation. One of the men and two of the women had lost their families to the Mountain and they had grown up with the other two. The five of them had grown to love each other and chose not to live ever without each other.

An odd situation, but it had not been illegal, nor had it been snubbed by an onlooker at the ceremony and feast.

It would not be snubbed now either.

Two of the women were Sky. One of the women was a Trikru.

Here Leksa was today on the day of the wedding, watching the hanging strips of dyed leather, designed with the symbol of marriage down the length of the strips blowing in the warm breeze. The symbol was a long vine of two ropes, wrapped around each other, intertwined. Symbolizing unity.

Leksa supposed there should have been three ropes in that symbol in this case, but she spoke nothing of it. She simply nodded to her warriors and to those who cheerfully greeted her. She would not participate in this festive ceremony any more than she had to. She was seated easily back against the wooden throne placed in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by the many tables beneath the brown, green, dark red and pale yellow cloth canopies held up by wooden masts. The beautiful, ornate tables were covered from one end to the other with platters of rich food for the three wives and the many guests.

Leksa watched Abi and the rest of Arkadia’s people walk between the many stands with the plates of food. Abi being here was in no way a surprise. It was her daughter’s wedding day. Why shouldn’t Abi kom Skaikru be here? If Abi’s pensive, tight face and narrowed eyes were anything to go by, then Leksa would wager that the woman was not pleased with Klark’s choice in marriage partners.

It may be the one time Leksa agreed with the stubborn and shrewd woman about something. Abi had always made her disdain for the tribes apparent. She thought they were savages. And Leksa knew that Abi didn’t think highly of people who were in love with those of the same sex. Leksa did not know what kind of ridiculous part of the Skaikru’s culture that was. But it was a disgrace. Why should being the same sex be a concern?

But what could be done about it?

All three participants in the wedding ceremony were of age to wed, the oldest being thirty-eight, the younger two being twenty and twenty-one. And Abi didn’t dare go against Klark when she saw how much every tribe respected her daughter for the fall of the mountain, and that Klark was the reason why the Skaikru were now part of the Coalition. Klark was too respected and revered for Abi to try anything. So Leksa knew that the woman could do nothing except watch with loathing in her heart for the outcome.

Leksa again found a new and practically amusing camaraderie with the Sky woman. Resentment would be billowing in her heart as well. She and Abi had more in common than either of them originally thought. Where Klark was concerned, at least. 

The long, wooden horns blasted and the wide, box-shaped, gleaming, cherry red wooden string instruments thrummed at their owners’ hands as the silken doors parted of the main, purple tent, the three to be wedded women stepping out. Millions of cheers and howls of approval shot through Polis. Leksa remained passive, her jaw clenching tight. She would not betray herself by letting any emotions slip. Klark stood with her two beloved eventual wives. Her pale blonde hair was lined with small, purple flowers, her body wrapped in a smooth, dark brown and dark green dress of leather and fur. She was staring at her two mates with love, desire and yearning. 

Leksa felt her blood burn. There had been a time when she believed that Klark would look at her in that way. And she had dreamed of it ever since Ton DC. 

But she never had. And now the only ones who she gave such love to were these two unworthy women. Leksa faintly felt a burning gaze upon her. She knew that endless people would be watching the soon to be newlyweds, but many would be watching her too. This was not in at all alarming. It only became startling a moment later when a chuckle whispered across her ear.

“You keep staring at Klark, Heda and she is bound to know that you are jealous.”

Leksa tried not to growl at the voice of the woman who had at one time been her mentor. “Onya,” Leksa said, just barely glancing to the left at Onya who had walked over and was tossing a shiny red apple up in the air repeatedly, catching it, “You should know that I will not have anyone speak to me around others in such a familiar tone.”

“Give it a rest, Heda,” Onya said, grinning, taking a bite out of the apple. “Who do you think more people are watching? You? Or the three lovely women across from us who are to be married and everyone knows will be having a more than pleasurable night this evening in their tent?”

Leksa’s hands tightened around the knobs of the arms of her throne. “Mind your tongue, Onya.” Leksa ordered, throat dry at Onya’s words. But they were true. And a fact of relationships. After a wedding, there followed sex usually. And Leksa would not be surprised even a little if Klark had consummated the relationship with these two women more than a dozen times. Leksa knew that Klark had pushed her away in Ton DC after she had first kissed the other young woman. But she also knew back then that Klark had been the boy, Fin’s lover before she had killed him to spare him the death by a thousand cuts.

It didn’t surprise Leksa that Klark may have spent more than a few pleasurable nights with these women even before the marriage. 

“There’s nothing you can do, Heda,” Onya’s voice spoke softly, but sadly. Leksa knew that Onya didn’t have to say anything. She didn’t either. They both knew. There had been a time once when they thought they could have spent their life with Klark. Leksa when she had realized she was in love with Klark in Ton DC. And Onya when she and Klark had escaped the mountain together and went to Polis, asking the Commander for an alliance against the Mountain Men.

But those dreams were just dreams. Klark didn’t love them the way they loved her. Klark loved these two women. The taller woman with Klark, Niylah, a well known trader had her hair in the usual braids, but now they were decorated through the slips where the knots of the braids were with purple, red and yellow flowers.

The older woman looked at Klark now as Niylah always did with such tenderness and love it made Leksa’s heart hurt. She should be the one next to Klark, not Niylah. And not the other young Sky woman.

Not this “Zoee Munroh.” But Klark was with both Munroh and Niylah. What else could be done? Leksa knew better than to believe that she could harm a hair on either of Klark’s to be homons’ heads. She may be Heda, but even her reign did not allow her to commit such heinous and petty acts as killing those that she was in love with had the affections of. 

Such actions would be seen for what they were. Weakness. And that was only the beginning of what would happen. If she harmed a Sky woman, this Munroh, and broke the heart of another Sky woman, Klark, the alliance would immediately be broken. It would risk war. And to kill one of her own simply for jealousy, a fellow Trikru?

To kill Niylah for mere petty jealousy would put her under the most disgusted scrutiny of her own people and she could not risk such tempestuous danger to her hold on the tribes. She had fought long and hard to unite the twelve tribes and now to add a thirteenth tribe. She hadn’t gone through that just to ruin it by killing someone out of something as weak as being enraged that she was not the one at Klark’s side.

She would not risk the Trikru seeing her as an enemy.

The Coalition had to remain.

And so the Commander knew that she must be remain calm and unwilling to raise a hand to either of the women at Klark’s side.

She had to look on, without emotions as she was torn up inside as Klark gave her heart away to two different women. Women that were not her or Anya.

“Be honest, Onya.” Leksa said to Onya without turning to her. “You loathe them for taking her from us.” She felt more than saw Onya nod next to her. “Sha,” Onya answered. “I do. But not as much as I loathe myself for letting Klark go. For not doing more to make her stay.” Leksa finally turned to Onya, alarmed. Onya said, not looking at her Heda, voice almost sad, “We made our choices, Heda. You left her at the Mountain. And I did nothing about it but watched on like a mindless soldier. We both made our choices. It doesn’t matter why we did it. We made our choices. And that’s all Klark needs to know. We did not stand by her side. Munroh and Niylah did. And for that, they will always have my gratitude, even if a part of me hates them.”

Leksa looked away, bitter. She knew the woman who had once been her mentor would be able to look at this from a more mature perspective, but it still hurt. It was like having a dagger deep in her very heart. Leksa wanted to say that she was old enough to recognize when she had done something wrong and that Klark had only done what she needed to do to be happy. And that Leksa had no right to be jealous. But this felt like a personal betrayal.

Leksa understood that Klark would be unwilling to trust her for a long time after the Mountain. But after two years, she thought that Klark might have softened. She had not.

Klark, it appeared, was very stubborn about holding grudges. But Leksa knew that she deserved it. Some part of herself, through all that pride and indignation knew that she deserved this. She had left Klark. She had left Klark’s people to die. She had left Klark to defend against the Mountain Men herself. If Klark chose to be with people who weren’t her, did she really have the right to be enraged or envious? Klark had made her decision to be with these women and as Onya had said, Leksa had made her decision to leave Klark.

Klark was the one who had the right to make her own decisions. Leksa had no business questioning Klark’s personal choices that would not affect the Coalition in any way.

And so Leksa had to leave this relationship between Klark and her to be homons as it was. 

Klark, Niylah and Munroh approached the platform to Leksa’s throne where she sat and where Onya appeared to be without a care, ate next to her. The three eventually to be married women moved to the platform and stood in front of it, and Klark lifted her head, smiling at her lovers, but her eyes flashed up to Leksa and Onya, a smirk appearing for a second before she forced herself to look overjoyed again and the light returned to her cold eyes as she looked at her eventual homons.

Leksa’s jaw tightened. She understood the look that Klark cast her just now. She saw it for what it was. 

I win, that look said. Even though Klark had not spoken, her judgmental eyes and cold smirk had been deafening. 

The Commander might have been the ruler of the now thirteen tribes, but Klark had won. She was the leader of her tribe, had entered her people in the Coalition, and knew the Commander would not break the agreement, lest she wished to prove that she was going to betray her own people this time. Klark had arranged it so that Kane and Abi kom Skaikru were the ambassadors and not her.

She was making sure that she had as little contact with the Commander as possible.

And now, Klark was marrying two women.

And Leksa would never have her.

Klark was getting rid of any situations where she would have to associate with either the Commander or her closest general. Making sure the ambassadors in Polis to represent the Skaikru that were anyone except her and her homons, marrying Munroh and Niylah, bring marriage laws up to protect herself from being pursued by anyone on the outside of that marriage, having Belomi be the scout between the two different peoples, the Skaikru and Polis. These precautions were made so that Klark would never have to be around Leksa in any circumstance.

In any sense of the word, shape or form.

Leksa, despite her heartache and the pain, applauded Klark’s efficiency.

Klark had effectively heavily decreased any possibility of her and Leksa or Onya meeting again after the wedding. 

Leksa held back any emotions that might leak through and show how weak she really was. She stood up, her face a mask of indifference. She nodded to Klark, Niylah and Munroh who all turned to her. “Klark kom Skaikru. Munroh kom Skaikru. Niylah kom Trikru.” She said, voice betraying none of her broken emotions. “You are to be wed on this day and you shall be celebrated tonight. A festival shall be held here in your honor. Now for the vows.”

Leksa, feeling like her legs were heavier than they had been in a while, started walking down the steps to the trio. She was only a few feet from Klark and her lovers now. Her chest ached and as Onya came down the steps to join her, that ache did not stop. Klark turned her head to Onya. “Hello, Anya.” She said, nodding to the older woman.

“Klark.” Onya said, voice gurgling slightly with her chewing the apple.

Leksa fought not to glare at the woman who had once been her teacher. She envied Onya’s ability to appear unaffected by this. She was not naïve. She had known Onya’s feelings for Klark since Onya returned to Polis, injured and drained of energy, proposing the alliance with the Sky People in the first place.

Onya had been covered in mud and had been wounded in several areas and exhausted, but she had been alive. Onya had told her Heda that she believed that the leader of the Sky People, Klark was trustworthy and could lead her people against the Mountain fiercely in a war. And she suggested to meet with Klark and form an alliance with the Skaikru against the mountain.

But it had been for naught. 

Leksa had been confronted by one of the Mountain Men, Karl Emerson and he made a deal. She stop the attacks and they’d let her people leave the mountain. Just as long the Mountain Men could have the rest of the Sky people and let them take the Sky peoples’ bone marrow.

It was a decision that Leksa wished she never had to make. It would haunt her for the rest of her life. But she had done it for her people. And she knew she’d do it again.

But Klark, if her amusement whenever she saw how seeing her with Munroh and Niylah hurt the Commander was anything to go by, had never forgiven her for the mountain. And Leksa had to wonder if Klark ever would.

Onya spoke in a surprising soft tone, “I’m happy for you, Klark.”

Klark nodded. “Thank you, Anya.” 

Niylah lifted Klark’s left hand up to her face, lips going to Klark’s palm. “Thank you for having us here, Commander.” Niylah’s voice was layered with pleasure and her eyes narrowed with disdain for the other woman across from her. Leksa knew immediately that Niylah wished her to feel the burning jealousy that she had been feeling all day since the preparations had begun for the wedding. Leksa would not presume anything, but she had suspected that Klark had told Niylah everything.

Her Klark had told Niylah, one of the most reliable traders in this part of Trikru land what happened at the Mountain. Leksa knew that Klark had met Niylah after the mountain. Klark had sought refuge in Niylah’s home and in doing so had gained a lover and now, today would be gaining two wives. She had not known about Klark’s relationship with Munroh. 

She had only found out about it after Klark had returned with her group from their travels. Munroh had been one of the Skaikru to accompany Klark in their travels. They must have become lovers along the way.

Knowing that didn’t help any of Leksa’s agonizing conflict. It didn’t help knowing that all of this could have been avoided, that she could have been the one at Klark’s side and not Munroh or Niylah if she had not taken the deal at the mountain.

It could have been, should have been her and Onya at Klark’s sides. But She had taken the deal from Emerson. And Klark had chosen Niylah and Munroh. 

The braided Munroh, her shoulders wreathed with black fur and a silk, white necklace around her throat, walked closer, a smirk on her face as she looked at the Commander and Leksa felt the anger start to surface. All three of them were taunting her. They would be as subtle about it as they could, to keep from being punished for mocking the Commander, but they were taunting her. All three of them were.

Leksa kept her emotions in check and kept a brave, emotionless face. “I will begin the ceremony. The three of you please, follow me.” She began to walk past them and she felt many eyes follow her. Onya followed alongside her and she knew that Onya had observed what she had observed when Onya spoke, “Do not acknowledge their game, Heda.” The older woman spoke. “They wish only to drag you down, make you hurt. Do not acknowledge them.” Leksa sighed, voice cold, “You need not tell me this, Onya. I know. And you do not need to give me council, Onya. I am Heda now. I need no council from generals.”

Onya chuckled as they walked, but Leksa saw no mirth in Onya’s eyes. She knew Onya found no amusement in this. 

When they reached the velvet capped stand, steps going down it to lead up to the main square, Leksa and Onya stood on top of the stand and waited for Munroh, Klark, Niylah and their many friends and guests came over. It was then that the ceremony began. With Indra and Oktevia and Linkin standing guard, armed, and the many watchers in Polis observing, all excited, and Leksa began to make the announcement and the ceremony.

“We are here to witness the marriage of Munroh kom Skaikru, Klark kom Skaikru, Wanheda, and Niylah kom Trikru. Stand and watch.”

She began giving the usual honors, the speech that all newlyweds would receive and what marriage entailed in their culture. It was true that Leksa could see many listening with awed attention and even many of the 100 that had returned with Klark from their travels interested in the speech. But what was also true was that all three Klark, Munroh and Niylah were watching her with nothing but lack of interest.

Klark, while pleasantly smiling had that dark, proud look in her eyes. As if to announce to the whole world, I win. Munroh was scowling at her deeply and holding her arm around Klark’s right arm like a chain trying to keep Klark from ever risking Klark going to Leksa. And Niylah had an utterly peaceful look on her face, as if she had just been given the world. It was as if she had been told the rest of her life, the rest of eternity even would be happy and blissful for her.

And why wouldn’t she look like that?

She was soon to be married to the love of her life, Klark. And if that wasn’t reason enough to be blissful, to believe that your life and all that it entailed would be, then Leksa did not know what was. After what Leksa was sure had been almost an hour, she gave an end to that speech and asked that the three women to be wed stepped up and have their arms bound in the last touch of the ceremony.

She began to walk down to the steps and the three women walked up to the steps, raising their hands. Munroh, smirking still, held her left hand up, palm down. Klark placed her right hand over Munroh’s, her fingers splaying over Munroh’s. Niylah placed her right hand over Klark’s hand, palm over the back of Klark’s hand. 

Watching the three actions and seeing the three arms touching made Leksa fight down the urge to throw up. She would have to live with this. For the rest of her life, however long that may be. She might die in a year or two or maybe five or ten years from now. Given that she was the Commander, that made her dying sooner, much sooner very likely. Maybe she’d somehow survive till her hair was grey. But it didn’t matter which way her death eventually would claim her.

In this life, she would not have Klark.

Maybe in the next life. 

Leksa fought to keep herself from smiling grimly. It felt so bitter to think. “The next life.” She didn’t want to be with Klark in the next life. She wanted to be with Klark NOW.

But the bitterest part of this was that Leksa knew the truth. She couldn’t have Klark now and she wouldn’t have Klark now. And she knew it.

Klark knew that too. That was probably why she was looking so calm and smug right now.

Leksa took the accursed cloth that would bind the three women together from her belt. It was the ceremonial, purple, silk cloth that was to be wound around all three Munroh, Klark and Niylah’s wrists, symbolically binding them together in a union. Leksa held back every inch of anger and disgust over having to do this as she placed the bottom of the piece of cloth against Munroh’s wrist and started to wrap the length of the cloth around Niylah, Klark and Munroh’s wrists thrice. On the third wound around their wrists, Leksa lay the end of the cloth over the top of Niylah’s hand.

She looked into Niylah’s dark eyes, then to Munroh’s green eyes. Leksa had to look at the two other women. She couldn’t bear to look into Klark’s eyes. She had to live with Klark being without her and relishing in that she wouldn’t be bound to her. Leksa didn’t have to look at Klark to know that Klark was singing inside. Klark had every right in the world to be prideful, to be arrogant. She had arranged everything to cut the Commander out of her life. And she had even gained a great deal of happiness in all this.

Leksa knew that Klark was right. Klark had won. There was no way that Leksa could involve herself in Klark’s life. There was no room for her to be able to slide into Klark’s life. Klark had made sure of that. 

Leksa sighed deeply, a cold pit opening up wide in her stomach. This was the end of their relationship. This may even be the end of any interaction she and Klark might have. This was the end.

Leksa felt the creeping agony just itching to overtake her, but she fought it to remain appearing strong. 

Everyone in Polis knew of Leksa’s feelings for Klark. If Leksa even showed a little emotion when it came to Klark, she would be marked as a weakling. 

“You three are bound together,” Leksa said, forcing her face to be impassive, looking from Niylah and Munroh, just avoiding Klark’s eyes, keeping her eyes on Klark’s hand. “The three of you will now be sharing your lives together. May the goddess of protection, the god of strength, the goddess of family, the goddess of longevity, the god of fertility, goddess of, the goddess of healing and the goddess of knowledge watch over your union always.”

Klark’s smile was suddenly wide and she almost whispered, “Wonder if the goddess of revenge will be watching over me too.” 

Leksa tightened her mouth, body tense. She didn’t see why Klark would bother saying that. It looked like the goddess of revenge, Vokaa was already looking after Klark perfectly. She wanted Leksa to suffer? Well, Leksa was suffering, alright. She was suffering horribly. Klark would have been more merciful to stab her right in the heart. But Klark was wise in her methods of taking revenge.

It was crueler, but much wiser to take revenge by leaving the intended victim alive and use their emotions against them to tear them apart from the inside out. Much wiser than possibly killing the intended victim and risking a war, and risking one’s life.

Leksa raised her hand up off of Niylah’s hand, letting the thin piece of purple cloth dangle around the three other women’s wrists and raised her right hand up, wrist curving down so that her fingertips were directed at the top of the other three women’s hands.

“May all gods and goddesses bless your union.” She spoke as smoothly as she could, keeping the emotion from her voice, but trying not to sound bored. It took a great effort to have an in-between tone when her emotions were running painfully around inside her. “Every tribe shall respect this union. And any warrior from any tribe who does not, will suffer at the hands of Heda.”

All of the gathered warriors, traders, villagers and other guests bowed their heads and called out in a chorus, “Sha! Heda!” 

Eventually, Leksa lowered her arm and pressed the palm of her hand against the back of Niylah’s finishing the ceremony. She let go of all three arms and stepped back, her skin burning with anger and envy. Finally, her eyes looked at Klark’s beautiful, sky blue ones. 

“I wish you happiness, Wanheda,” Leksa said to the blonde woman. “Your and Niylah and Munroh’s union will be honored. The three of you may go now and join your people in Arkadia, if that is what you wish.”

Klark nodded, the smirk still on her face. She began to unwind the piece of cloth from her, Niylah and Munroh’s wrists and gathered the piece of cloth up in her hand and tossed it without a care at Leksa, smiling coldly. “Thank you, Commander,” She said, voice almost not holding back the chuckle in it, “How kind of you to oversee the marriage yourself. We are honored.”

Leksa caught the piece of cloth, the words that Klark had thrown at her no different from a round of arrows or bullets. But Leksa’s impassive face didn’t change. She nodded her head. “The honor was mine, Wanheda.” 

Niylah, Klark and Munroh’s arms lowered and all three women smirked at Leksa. Munroh stepped closer and said to Leksa, grinning at Onya as the many guests began to disperse and go back to their business, “I don’t think either of you will be surprised that we’ll have a lot of fun on our wedding night, Commander.”

Leksa fought everything inside her not to raise a hand to the young woman. Munroh was amongst the 100. One of the “delinquents” that came down to the ground with Klark almost three years ago. She was vulgar and unruly. Besides the furs of the tribes that had weapons attached to them, she always preferred wearing Sky clothing. Munroh’s green eyes held cruelty for Leksa and her people. Nothing but disdain. 

Munroh’s mouth turned into a true smile. “I guess I should thank you, Commander. Thank you for abandoning Clarke at the mountain. Thank you for giving her to me and to Niylah.”

Leksa found her breath choked in her throat, the anger becoming painful. Niylah talked smoothly, a gentle smile on her face, looking right at Klark with so much affection in her eyes that made Leksa sick. “You hurt our Klark.” Niylah’s voice held no anger. Her calmness made her words even more terrible. “And now, we will take care of her. You were not interested in fulfilling your promises to her. But we will.”

Onya’s voice became accusing, “You dare question Heda-“

“Not at all,” Klark laughed, a purely sweet smile on her face that made Leksa’s skin crawl. “We aren’t questioning the Commander at all, Anya. We’re just noticing what the Commander did. We are acknowledging what the Commander gave up. When she made the deal of the mountain, she knew she was giving me up. And since she gave me up, two other people decided to step up and court me.” The cold smile widened, and Klark showed her teeth. “We understand your choice, Commander. You did what you needed to do. But you gave something up in doing that. You gave me up. And you knew that. Your loss is Niylah and Monroe’s gain. Nothing else. Sorry, Lexa,” Klark said, smirking. “You did this yourself. This was your choice.”

The Commander kept her mouth closed, her chest aching with hurt pride and the loss of Klark. The irreversible loss of the young woman who at one time might have been hers. She didn’t even look at Onya who’s similar pain she could almost feel.

It was identical pain. Because Onya knew she could not interfere, not unless she wanted to defy the laws of their people, or appear weak. And her duty was to her people first. She could not choose her emotions over her duty to her tribe. 

Klark took Munroh’s left hand in her right one and Niylah’s right hand in her left hand. “Monroe, Niylah, sweethearts, we should get going.” Klark was smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world, and Leksa wondered if that was actually true. “The others are waiting for us. Harper, Jasper and Monty want to go back to Arkadia. Don’t want to have a whiny Jasper, do we?”

Munroh chuckled and nodded. She leaned into Klark, sliding her hand from Klark’s hand and wrapped her left arm around Klark’s waist, pressing her forehead to Klark’s forehead, smiling. Niylah was smiling too and placed her right hand up Klark’s left arm up and down. “Ai hodness,” Niylah purred, “We should leave.” 

Leksa felt sick. Every movement, every word, every contact that Niylah and Munroh had with Klark made her sick. What she couldn’t have. Klark smiled venomously at her and turned, Munroh and Niylah turning with her. The three women and started walking back to where the rest of the delinquents that were the 100 who had gone with Klark and Munroh after the mountain. 

Leksa recognized some of them. Jaspa, Monti, Hapah, Sterlying, Del, Deek, Tim, Dwight, Kay, Sara, Kathy, Peter and many others that made up the number thirty-five. The group of delinquents moved out of the way and giving Klark, Munroh and Niylah room to go between them and going to the front of the crowd. Leksa tried, she tried so hard to ignore the torture in her heart, seeing Klark walk out of her life, this time she was sure it could be permanently. 

Onya spoke to Leksa in a calm, wise and grim voice, “I don’t wish to say it, but all three of them are right. We gave Klark up. Now we have to live with our duty.”

Leksa wished to snap at the woman who had once been her teacher. But Onya was right. They had all been right. 

Leaving the main circle where the marriage had been, Indra gave Klark, Munroh, Niylah and the other delinquents a hateful stare. Oktevia growled “natronas” at them, but she was ignored and Linkin gently put his hand on her shoulder, calming her.

The group left and Leksa understood with growing agony, that she might never see Klark again.

Klark was Munroh and Niylah’s wife and lover now. There was nothing to be done about that. And even if she denied it and kept saying she did it for her people, Klark, Munroh, Niylah, Onya, all of them. They were right. She had been the one to give up Klark. Now she had to watch as Klark moved on.

Gods and goddesses, she envied Munroh and Niylah. She chuckled with self-loathing, ignoring Onya’s stare on her when she heard her Commander give that noise. Munroh and Niylah had better take good care of Klark.


End file.
